


Hands

by torres



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-29
Updated: 2013-05-29
Packaged: 2017-12-13 08:59:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/822462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torres/pseuds/torres
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sergio and Fernando and phone sex. Daniel interrupts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hands

Fernando hadn’t even noticed the turn in the conversation.

One moment, he was narrating how his hamstring acted up again during training, the next, Sergio was abruptly interrupting him: “Are you alone?” He asked in a dropped, sombre tone.

Fernando stuttered, taken aback. “I... yes – well, kind of. I have a roommate, but he went out for a while.”

“That’s enough time,” the Sevillan answered, no-nonsense.

Fernando shifted his mobile to his other ear, “What are you talking about?”

“Nando, I’ve missed you so much,” Sergio purred over the line. And he said that every time they talked but this time, it sounded different – huskier and throatier.

“I’ve missed you too,” the striker replied dutifully, but his heart slammed against his ribcage ominously. It felt like he was unknowingly agreeing to something he didn’t want to.

“What are you wearing right now?” Sergio asked and a million things buzzed through Fernando’s mind. Anxiety made his blood run cold, but he answered nevertheless. “A black shirt and grey track bottoms.”

“And...?” Sergio prodded and Fernando’s stomach dropped.

Shit, he’s got to be kidding.

But the Sevillan waited expectantly for the striker to reply. Grimacing to himself, Fernando peered under the waistband of his jogging pants then blushed furiously when he muttered to the mouthpiece, “White Jockeys.”

“Hmm,” Sergio hummed in pleasure. “Take them off – take them all off, Fernando.”

“What?” Fernando couldn’t stop himself from blurting out, aghast.

Sergio made an impatient sound at the back of his throat, “Put me on speaker phone so you can use both hands. Go on.”

Fernando ran his hand over his face in exasperation, but the younger boy always had him wrapped around his tiny little finger. He grudgingly pressed the speakerphone button on his mobile and threw the phone on his hotel bed in annoyance. With sweaty palms, he pulled his shirt over his head then his track bottoms below his knees. He kicked them off slowly, trying to stall as much as possible.

There was a boys’ game in high school slightly like this one. It was simple: you called your friend over the phone and you jacked off together. Whoever could come first – and could come again and again – won. It was a test of virility and endurance. It was a stab at sexual experimentation.

But Fernando never joined, only pretended to, with exaggerated groans and panting breaths. Maybe he was a prude, maybe he was shy, but how do you get off when someone was talking to you, listening to you, almost watching you?

“Are you stripping?” Sergio’s testy question snapped him out of his reverie.

“Yeah,” Fernando said, beginning to feel that familiar feeling of awkwardness creeping in. Here he was, alone in his hotel room in England, talking out loud while his horny boyfriend in Madrid popped incriminating question after incriminating question.

“So, you’re naked?”

Fernando glanced down at his briefs – he refused to take them off.

“Yes.”

What Sergio couldn’t see wouldn’t hurt him.

“Good,” Sergio said, whispering thickly. “I’m wearing those jeans you love – tight around my thighs and low on my hips.”

Squeezing his eyes shut, Fernando lay back on his pillows and tried to relax, concentrating on Sergio’s deep voice wafting into the room.

“I can just imagine you running your hands over them, caressing me through the thick fabric, and it makes me crazy with lust having you so near yet so far.”

Fernando let his fingers brush over his crotch and it tingled faintly – barely.

“You take off my pants and I thrust my hips upward before they’re even completely off. I just want your hands, your mouth on my cock, Fernando. Oh, God, I’m so fucking hard, you just don’t know.”

The striker squirmed against the cool cotton sheets. Sergio’s words made him feel so heated, so tense, so... so... so self-conscious.

“Touch yourself, Fernando,” Sergio moaned to the phone.

The striker massaged his cock through his briefs, kneading the flesh. But it still felt soft to his grasp.

Of course, this was nothing new. He jacked off to Sergio countless times into the night – having a long-distance relationship often meant your right hand was the most you could get – but having a running commentary blaring through his mobile suddenly made it seem less intimate, less passionate.

“How are you doing?” And Fernando could imagine the confident smirk in Sergio’s tone.

“I’m doing good,” Fernando squeaked unconvincingly. He gripped his cock harder and tighter now. It was more painful than pleasurable – and the kind of pain that was more burning and chafing than eroticizing.

And he was so preoccupied with trying to look beyond the aching to hear a keycard being swiped through the door lock. So when Daniel Agger came strolling in, Fernando was lying on his back, legs thrown wide, fingers gripping desperately at the bulge in his underwear, face scrunched up in frustration.

Meanwhile, Fernando stopped jacking off for a second, opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling hopelessly. Oblivious, he groaned, running his hands through his hair irritably. He turned to readjust his position on the bed, when from the corner of his eye, he saw a certain Danish defender standing at the foot of his bed.

“Oh... fuck,” Fernando couldn’t help cursing and Sergio must have misinterpreted it because he purred at the other end of the line.

“God, yes, Nando. How good does that feel?”

And Fernando could honestly swear it was as if Sergio’s voice echoed off the walls again and again. He immediately sat up, one hand tugging his bed sheet over his body, the other frantically trying to find his mobile. His fingers trembled nervously as he fiddled with his phone, putting Sergio’s call on hold.

“I... I was just...” He stammered, cheeks burning a bright red, “We were just talking.” 

“Of course.” Dan said levelly.

The striker stared at him dumbly and Dan stared back, expression composed.

And Fernando always felt uneasy around the Dane. His stony demeanour. His heavy silences. It was an economy of word and movement. He was always unruffled.

Always unreadable.

Like right now, where for a split-second Daniel probably smiles. But there’s an almost sinister gleam in his eye that tells Fernando it could be a sneer instead.

“Don’t let me interrupt you.” The defender said and it sounds almost gallant.

As if in a trance, Fernando nodded and went back to Sergio’s call. He pressed the phone to his ear and Sergio was instantly demanding on the other end of the line – “What the fuck was that?”

“I accidentally dropped my phone on the floor... I didn’t notice, I’m sorry,” Fernando explained lamely. Sergio huffed in reply, and it sounded like he had begun chastising the striker, but it only rang hollowly inside his head. Instead, Fernando discreetly watched Daniel make his way out of the room. Fernando’s shoulders sagged in relief but his stomach churned in disappointment.

“Anyway,” Sergio said loudly, signalling the striker to tune into the conversation again. His voice became mischievous, “Touch yourself again, baby. I want to hear you.”

Fernando grimaced to himself. It was involuntary, but he whinged before he could stop himself. Daniel suddenly stopped walking upon hearing the sound, and his half-turn was smooth and measured. But for the first time, his face was like an open book. And right now, Fernando decided that Daniel was amused.

The defender seemed to take an extra second of hesitation before asking, “Do you need help with that?” He smirked pointedly at Fernando’s erection. Or lack thereof.

Fernando pressed the phone to his shoulder to muffle his meek, dazed “I-I’m okay, thanks.”

“Are you sure? It looks like you’re having... a hard time.” Daniel’s lips twisted into a smirk as if he were amused at his own wit.

Fernando’s mouth opened and closed wordlessly. Daniel put one knee on the mattress, then another. Then crawled towards the Spaniard with a predatory glint in his brown eyes. Fernando scrambled backwards instinctively until his back was against the headboard and he had nowhere to go.

“No, really, I’m fine.” The striker said, forcing a tight grin.

Dan raised an eyebrow. He reached out and let his fingers brush lightly over Fernando’s crotch. Fernando squirmed and tried to get away but Daniel only tightened his grip around the bulge more persistently. Fernando froze in an instant, legs falling to the side weakly.

“Or, that’s good too,” Fernando amended hollowly, head falling back against the headboard, mouth parting involuntarily.

Daniel smiled triumphantly. With one hand, he traced the prominent outline of Fernando’s cock restrained inside his briefs. And with the other, he eased Fernando’s mobile away from the Spaniard’s sweaty fingers.

“Wait, no – ” Fernando protested half-heartedly, but Dan had already placed the call back on speakerphone and tossed the mobile on the night stand. Sergio’s dirty talk floated into the room.

“...And, fuck, I bet your nipples are so hard right now. I want to place them in my mouth and lick them and bite them until they’re red.”

Fernando and Daniel exchanged hesitant glances, but the Dane only gave Fernando a half-shrug and a silly smile. Not stopping his ministrations on the striker’s hardening cock, Daniel leaned forward and lapped experimentally on Fernando’s nipple. The blonde visibly tensed, his breath caught in his throat, and Daniel liked the effect – the sheer power – he had on the Spaniard. Dipping his head again, he took the other nipple into his mouth and flicked his tongue back and forth against the nub, again and again and again until Fernando was quivering so badly underneath him.

“Jesus Christ!” Fernando cried out, his fingers tightening painfully around Daniel’s hair and Sergio groaned appreciatively at the other end of the line.

“Yeah, I just want to fucking lick you everywhere, Fernando. Imagine my tongue all over your chest, my hands groping at your ass and your balls and your cock. I’m all over you, Fernando,” Sergio panted lustily.

Daniel moved so fluidly, Fernando didn’t know where it began or ended. One moment, Dan’s fingers raked over the ridges of his ribs; the next, they ran thin scratch lines along narrow hips before clutching greedy handfuls of the flesh of the striker’s behind. His tongue moved deftly from encircling his nipples to tracing the line down the middle of Fernando’s chest, dipping teasingly into his belly button.

Fernando hissed through gritted teeth, his hips helplessly thrusting up and asking for attention. Dan licked his lips hungrily. Fernando sat up to watch, absolutely entranced with the way Daniel ran his teeth gently against the head of his cock through his underwear. He worked his lips over the thickness of the swollen flesh, saliva wetting the fabric until it clung even more visibly around the Spaniard’s erection. 

“Talk to me, babe,” Sergio coaxed over the line, breath coming in short bursts, interspersed with the sound of skin rubbing against skin.

“Oh, God,” Fernando choked, as Dan met his eyes innocently while drawing circles on his inner thigh with his tongue. The striker grabbed Dan’s hands and put them on the waistband of his briefs, urging the Dane to just take them off already. He begged, “Please.”

Dan pulled away and looked unconvinced. Defiant.

“Please,” Fernando urged again, grinding his hips against Dan’s denim jeans.

“Please what?” Sergio ribbed over the line.

The Dane bent over Fernando’s prone body and kissed the pulse point on his neck. “Sergio says you should beg for it,” he whispered hotly against the striker’s ear.

Fernando murmured up at Daniel, “Please – ”

“So Sergio can hear,” Dan ordered, eyes boring down into the striker’s.

Fuelled by need, Fernando had no time left for indignation. “Touch me. Suck me. I don’t care.” he spoke up, hearing Sergio’s ragged breaths over the line. His level voice tapered off into an impatient whine in the end. “I just want you on my cock, please!” 

Dan smiled triumphantly as he looked over the mobile on the night table, where Sergio’s groans came loud and clear, but Fernando reached up and forced the Dane to look back down at him.

“I want _you_ ,” he said, almost inaudbile, “on my cock.”

There was a long stretch of silence and all that could be heard was Sergio jacking himself off. Dan and Fernando stared at each other hard. Then, Dan tore Fernando’s briefs off him in a flash, the damp cloth digging painfully into the striker’s pale skin as it was harshly pulled off.

Dan sat up and paused just to sweep his eyes over Fernando’s naked body, yearning for him. There was something erotic in the way he was fully-clothed and Fernando had nothing to hide.

“I’m so close, Fernando,” Sergio panted over the phone.

Fernando tore his gaze away from Daniel guiltily. He looked over at his mobile, “Okay, Sergio. I’m not far behind.”

Dan nodded obediently even if Fernando wasn’t looking. He remembered he was only here to help out. Clamping his palm over Fernando’s cock, he started stroking it back to full erection, and with his thumb, he spread the pre-cum slickly over the head. Fernando moaned softly, his fist clutching handfuls of the sheets.

Soon, Fernando was squirming in bed as Daniel tugged at his cock and caressed his sac relentlessly. His muscles ached from tensing and bucking, but Daniel held him down with a firm hand on his belly.

Then, he brought his other hand up and pressed his index finger against Fernando’s bottom lip. The striker dutifully took it in his mouth like it was cock, licking at the soft pads and sucking on the sides. Dan watched avidly before drawing it back out with a wet pop. Fernando grinned drunkenly, but his expression quickly changed as he felt Dan’s slick finger fondle at his entrance.

“Ngh,” Fernando grunted gibberish as he felt the digit pushing in, meeting resistance against the ring of muscle at first, before sliding all the way inside. Dan didn’t know why he was tempting himself more, but Fernando felt so good around his finger.

“I wish you could fuck me,” Fernando moaned thickly, his hair plastered across his cheek in sweat.

“I wish I could fuck you right now too,” Sergio said in reply.

Fernando arched up from the bed, heat spreading like wildfire all over his body. Dan pumped his cock and finger-fucked his ass with military efficiency, using alternating strokes as quickly as he could to bring Fernando to his peak.

“I’m gonna come!” Sergio cried out piercingly on the other end of the line. There was a strangled groan of release, before the Sevillan’s heaving breaths could be heard.

Fernando’s nails dug painfully around Daniel’s shoulders, and the Dane had to bite back a groan so Sergio wouldn’t hear. “Daniel...” Fernando whispered his pleas. His eyes shimmered with lust, his bottom lip was red from being bit between his teeth. Dan suddenly had the urge to take the plump lip in his mouth and just taste it.

Daniel brought his face centimetres from the striker’s, letting their foreheads rest against each other’s. The only thing keeping them apart was Daniel’s hand still working between Fernando’s legs. Other than that, Daniel breathed in what Fernando breathed out.

“Fuck,” Fernando groaned, and his eyes wrenched shut and his body coiled tightly. The Spaniard started coming in Dan’s palm and staining Dan’s jeans. The defender waited for the shuddering to die down – and when Fernando opened his eyes tiredly, Dan thought there was something intimate in the way he could watch the haze of Fernando’s orgasm ebb away.

“Fernando, I miss you so much,” Sergio’s wistful tone broke Dan’s train of thought and caught the two Liverpool players off guard. Daniel looked away and sat up to allow Fernando to reach for his mobile. The striker removed it from speakerphone and Daniel tried not to listen in as Fernando answered quietly, “I miss you too, baby.”

After a few minutes, their conversation ended and Fernando put down his mobile. He sat up as well, and they were face to face again. And again, Daniel closed the distance between them. There was no rhyme, nor reason to why he did it – in the same senseless way he just found himself wanting to be the one who made Fernando come when he found him in the middle of a phone sex session.

They were so close now, their noses bumped. And if Daniel just moved a fraction of an inch forward, their lips would meet. But nobody insomuch as stirred, as if both waiting for the other. Until somewhere along the way, Fernando lost his nerve and turned away, so that Daniel’s cheek could only press against his cheek. Their skin stuck to each other with sweat and saliva, and for a while, they just stayed like that.

After a few minutes, Dan abruptly stood up wordlessly and just like that, he was back to his stone-faced, distant self.

“Do you want me to...” – _return the favour?_ Fernando finished to himself. But Dan silenced him with a curt shake of the head, heading to the bathroom, intent on drawing himself a fucking cold shower.

Fernando watched him walk away. He didn’t feel disappointed or ashamed – confused, maybe. Numb, even. But as Daniel peered at him over his shoulder and their eyes met accidentally, and as he looked down and away as quickly as he could, his insides churned forebodingly. He had a strange feeling this was only the beginning.


End file.
